Sunday 20th October 2024

Otranto to Porto Badisco

Woke to grey skies, drizzle and a howling wind, but the forecast was looking positive.

Another cracking breakfast that we lingered over hoping for improved  weather for what was a 13 km walk. Notes indicated it’s essentially along the coast on muddy and rocky paths, with a bit of knee high Mediterranean vegetation to boot. On that description I donned the long  trekking strides for the first time on tour.

Lingering breakfast did the trick with drizzle disappearing, probably courtesy of the increased wind which we walked into all day. At times felt like the dog with its head out the car window with the jowls flapping.

It was our last goodbye to the castle, old town and port as we snuck onto the coast where the sea was quite angry and wind too much for a hat.

Despite the grey skies we could see a string of cargo ships heading south and a shadowy outline of the Albanian coast.

It sure was rocky terrain and an ideal landscape for the protective bunkers that were built during WW2. There were bunkers and observation towers consistently along the coast.

Unlike previous days there were plenty of other walkers including a guided group of about 20 who remained at our rear.

The signage was good if you simply followed the orange arrow.  Though the next bit of signage wasn’t as helpful, as the owners and Council had decided to remove right of way because of environmental damage being done on the trail.

That meant a diversion through some muddy fields where we were confronted with different signs pointing  generally in the same direction, but at other times down rocky paths.

We ignored them for a while and then on closer inspection found they had something to do with cycling.  We thought there must have been a race at some time 

We were soon to get more information from a photographer when our track swung onto the bitumen. Our path for the day was to be shared with 800 mountain bike riders competing in the international event called the Legend of Castro over 80 kilometres along the coast.

Just as he finished his explanation the trail clearing motor cycle came racing through, ignored the huge puddle and drenched him. He mumbled something like F..k Y.. is the same in any language.

Within minutes the World Champions in several classes came whizzing through and then it was a procession. We walked the road – no other option- to a nearby drinks station and took a rest watching a conga line of cyclists pass by. 

The drinks station was plonked near the lighthouse at the most easterly point of the coast and opposite some Secret Squirrel Military establishment protected by several layers of razor and barbed wire.

Also along the coast are strategically placed Torre or ancient lookout towers.

The walk is also part of the Camino trails this one is the Salemto. Like many it is rocky and here particularly open to the wind.

We set off again trying to share a slightly wider path, but it was impossible so we bush bashed back onto the road which would be our trail all the way to our accommodation.k

As we walked we could see the cyclists heading out to the coast. As they faded into the distance we detoured up a gravel road to our accommodation . What a find it was a working farm with accommodation and reception centre .

We got a bottom of the gardenroom which had a four poster bed and its own outdoor sitting area – we could understand why the host said it was their favourite room. 

Unfortunately we arrived earlier than the bags so wiled away the time until they were delivered and then changed into proper clothes and enjoyed an apperitivo.

Dinner was a fixed menu nouveau cuisine arrangement. The main was pork chops served with potato. The picture tells the story.

To be honest without the bread bag and dessert I would have gone to bed hungry. We managed to complement the food with a nice 2021 Malvasia blend.

Thankfully all the steps home were downhill.

A little bit of post dinner Google research revealed the hotel was built from an old ruin in the late 90’s and in 2007 won hotel of the year.